


incandescence

by raffinit



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But in complete denial about it, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tess lives and goes to Jackson with Joel and Ellie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 01:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raffinit/pseuds/raffinit
Summary: Old James from the plant calls her Joel’s “missus”, which irks and frightens and thrills Tess in one fell swoop.





	incandescence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peppermint_smile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_smile/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday gift for platonic bae/dumbass [Anne-Marie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_smile/works), and also because all I ever seem to write is smut with a little bit of plot.

Tess stares at the screen dubiously. "You're gonna electrocute yourself."

"It's fine," Joel insists, muffled from behind the dusty, aged flatscreen. "Just gotta — find the damn hole." There's some rummaging around, the sound of metal scraping on plastic, and then Joel curses.

Tess smirks, folding her arms and watching in amusement as he shakes his hand to soothe what must've been a shock. "I would’ve thought you had some experience with sticking things into holes by now."

The silence she gets as reply is both disbelieving and reproachful. Tess rolls her eyes, cocking her hip to lean against the wall as she watches Joel mutter and grunt behind the TV, until finally the screen flickers to life. She blinks when the floating image comes onscreen; a distant, foggy memory of it bouncing from corner-to-corner of the screen returns to her, lost inside a life that doesn't feel like her own anymore.

Joel pushes up off the ground, dusting off his jeans and shirt and hands with the pride of a handyman. "Told ya," he says smugly, moving back to stand beside Tess and examine his handiwork. The TV's functional for the most part, with a flicker here and there and a couple of dead pixels. The batteries in the remote had died out a long time back, but the buttons on the underside of the TV work well enough. The DVD player tucked into the TV stand is caked in dust, but after a few tweaks and some minor tinkering, it works in a pinch.

"I still think it's gonna blow up," Tess says.

Joel scoffs, waving her aside. He settles down into the lumpy couch with a weary groan, sprawling his arms out over the back and propping his feet up on the coffee table. "Gives us somethin' to do when we got time to kill," he says.

Tess eyes the thing critically, moving to perch herself carefully on the couch beside Joel. It's such...an _indulgent_ thing to have. Life in Jackson hasn’t been as rough and tumble as it was in the Zone, but Tess certainly hasn’t ever found herself wanting for things to do. There’s always things that need mending, patrolling, supervising. If she isn’t doing walks with Maria around town, she’s at the clinic helping out with the worst of the wounded. Thankfully, there aren’t many wounded townsfolk to speak of, only the men coming back from long range ventures into nearby towns. Most of them get banged up in skirmishes with straggling bandits, or just unfortunate accidents with the shifting weather.

Joel, as much as she knows, does about the same with Tommy. Only he goes on more hunts, more patrols, and more salvage runs than she does. She doesn’t think it’s really so much a gender thing as it is a skill thing -- Tess is meticulous in an urban setting, but she lacks dearly the patience for stalking an animal and killing it.

Winter had been proof of that.

Sitting down beside Joel, Tess becomes painfully aware of how their shoulders brush; of how much Joel takes up the space of the battered old couch, of how his chest moves as he breathes.

Joel tilts his head back, and Tess then becomes aware of the lines and curves of his jawline and neck, the prominent arch of his Adam’s apple hidden beneath a beard growing much too unruly. The state of his beard surprises Tess - she always trims it for him when it gets too wild, well before the state it’s in now.

It reminds of her how much time has passed since they came back from the Fireflies.

She shifts slightly, pulling away to make enough room between them so that their shoulders don’t touch. Joel opens an eye at the move, glancing at her sidelong, but saying nothing.

They haven’t touched each other in months.

Outside of accidental hand brushing when they’re passing around plates and tools and laundry, it’s almost as if Tess and Joel are strangers to each other. Things are...strained between them. Living together like this is different. It’s not like before. Not like when they’d sleep limb over limb, too exhausted for sheets or clothes, pressed so close to each other it was like crawling into each other’s skin.

No, in fact they hardly share a bed at all.

If Joel isn’t hunting, he’s on a graveyard patrol. If Tess isn’t patrolling, she’s out at the mill and the plant getting things moving.

One sleeps, and the other works.

They keep one bed, but hardly sleep in it together.

Tess doesn’t think they’re uncomfortable with it, really. They’re just good at different things, that need attention at different times. It’s not the same as the both of them running an underground market for illegal drugs and armaments. Back in Boston, almost all of their time was spent together, rain or shine, waking and sleeping. They drank, and fought, and fucked, and it was all in a day’s work. At first, she’d tried not to make it a habit of falling into his bed, but eventually it just seemed...natural.

Plus, Joel had enough body heat to last her through the winters.

Still, she can’t help but miss it a little.

Or a lot.

Settling down hasn’t really given them much time to consider things between them. “Partners” encompasses a grand total of titles that she’s not quite sure either of them understand, or even want, for that matter. People in town call him “her man”, and she “his lady”. Old James from the plant calls her Joel’s “missus”, which irks and frightens and thrills Tess in one fell swoop.

 _We’re not married_ , she always tells them with an irritable scowl and a casual hand on her gun. _We’re just partners._

 **_Partners_ ** , they’d drawl, teasing to the border of a leer. **_Means one and the same now_ **.

A rush of something nameless always cuts through her then; dark and twisting, yet light and flickering all the same.

“So,” she says, gesturing to the glow of the TV and its bobbing DVD screensaver. “Are you gonna pick out a movie, or are we just using it for a little mood lighting?”

Joel chuffs, but doesn’t make to move off the couch. “Figure we can let the kid pick out something,” he says, clapping a hand over his mouth idly to smother a yawn. “Don’t think ‘m gonna sit through a whole movie at this point,” he mumbles.

Tess hides her disappointment well, shrugging an elegant shoulder. “Your call,” she says, moving to uncurl her legs from under her. “Guess I’ll call it a night.” She looks at him expectantly.

“You gonna head out for the late shift on the wall?” she asks, feigning a casualty she doesn’t feel.

He gazes at her for a long, thoughtful moment, mouth moving as if he’s chewing through her words, tasting them for intention on his tongue. “Thought I might,” he replies eventually, pulling his arms off the back of the couch, fingertips grazing like the shift of a spider’s web over her shoulder. It’s almost as if he wants to touch her, but hesitates at the very last minute.

It’s becoming a little infuriating.

“But I figure maybe I oughta take the morning shift instead tomorrow,” he murmurs, eyes flickering over her neck and cheeks, and just left of her eyes. “Maybe we could uh...pick out a movie. To watch. Together.” He clears his throat, looking away to hide the rising flush she can see under his beard.

Tess bites down on an amused smile. “Sure,” she says, almost warmly. “‘m sure Ellie’d like that.”

Joel blinks, and he rolls his lips inwards again. “Right,” he mumbles. “Ellie.” He pushes off the couch, wandering over to the TV and shutting it off. “She oughta be back with M’ria by now from the plant.” The floorboards creak under the weight of his boots, muffled beneath a threadbare carpet.

“You uh...wanna go...walk over with me?” he offers, awkward and stilted. There’s a twisted little grimace on his face, and Tess isn’t sure if he’s hurting more from the words or the way they sound.

Still, something warm and encompassing blooms in her belly at the sight of him standing there, shuffling on his feet awkwardly. Old man. Joel. Her partner.

Unfolding long legs, she straightens off the couch. “Lead the way, Texas.”

 

\------

 

Ellie loves the idea of a movie night, as they’d expected. She rifles through the entire collection of DVDs they uncover, reading each and every leaflet for the summary and placing aside a pile of movies to watch. Tess sits beside her on the floor, skimming through the titles with an amused little smile. The girl has everything from The Lion King to Die Hard picked out.

“You sure you wanna watch this?” Tess asks dubiously, turning over the cover of 28 Days Later and reading the back.

Ellie shrugs, adding another one to the pile - a Lord of the Rings boxset. “Could learn from it,” she says, examining the cover of an animated film. “Lie-low and...Stitch?” Her brows wrinkle.

“It’s pronounced Lee-low,” Tess tells her patiently, taking the DVD from her with a wistful smile. “God, I remember this movie.” She turns the cover over in her hand, tracing her fingers over the drawing of Stitch reading to a gaggle of ducklings. “Made me cry when I first watched it. It’s a good movie.”

Ellie takes it back and adds it to the pile. Joel appears in the doorway of the living room, scowling at the mess of DVDs strewn out on the floor, and the haphazard tower beside Ellie. “You couldna done it without makin’ a mess, kid?” He sighs, crouching down to stack up the reject pile and placing them in a neat row on the shelf.

“I was gonna clean up after,” Ellie tells him, although Joel and Tess give her a look. “I was!” she protests, flushing indignantly.

Tess shakes her head, smiling as she ruffles the girl’s hair. “Alright, kiddo, put your stuff away and get cleaned up for dinner. I heard Kitty’s making pot pie.”

“Awesome!” Ellie gasps, scrambling to gather the DVDs in her arms. The kid’s a black hole when it comes to food, growing through every stock of jeans, shirts, and shoes that they can find. A growth spurt through the summer has put Ellie almost eye-to-eye with Tess.

Joel sighs as he watches her go, folding his arms and shaking his head in that indulgent way he always does when Ellie gets into trouble. “She always listens to you better.”

“You’re too soft on her,” Tess says, brushing hair off her shoulders and leaning back on her hands to look at him. “She knows when she can play you, old man.”

He harrumphs, folding his arms and cocking a hip to lean against the couch. “‘s that right?” He arches a brow at her, a challenge in his eyes as she smirks slow and coy at him. The grip of his arms across his chest only emphasises the build of them; tanned from working in the sun, and new muscles roping his forearms from the manual labour and the hearty meals.

She looks at him through her lashes, a slow smirk pulling the edge of her mouth. “You can put on that tough guy front for anyone else, but you and I both know you’re nothin’ but marshmallow inside.”

“Ain’t soft,” he sniffs, dropping his arms. He steps forward and reaches down, hand outstretched for her to take.

She eyes his hand briefly, eyebrow twitching as she slowly slides her palm against his, slender fingers spreading and curling up over his wrist. The pads of her fingers stroke over the thrum of his pulse, running a slow circle along it as she keeps her eyes focused on his face.

Joel swallows thickly, eyes glazing over black and hungry for a split second before he gives her hand a squeeze, and pulls back quickly. He clears his throat, fists clenched at his side as he jerks his head to the door. “C-c’mon,” he says, ushering her to the hallway.

His hand stays pressed against the small of her back the whole walk over to the mess hall.

Their thighs and shoulders press together all through dinner.

Before he leaves for his patrol that night, Joel kisses her goodbye. He doesn’t make a habit of it, and she would’ve given him a whole lotta shit about it if he had, but tonight, she savours it. It’s a chaste kiss; a lingering weight of his lips against her cheek, and Tess can’t help herself. She tilts her face into it, lets her eyes slide shut until he pulls back.

He steps back, breathing hard, eyes blown black and a flush growing over his neck. “Um. I’ll uh - see ya in the mornin’.”

She licks her lips, tastes the temptation of him on her skin. “Don’t die,” she says.

Joel blinks, pressing his lips together like he’s savouring the taste of her the same. With a curt nod, he leaves her with a big, cold bed.

 

\------

 

She wakes to the ticklish sensation of fingertips stroking over her skin. Trails like a spider’s legs, whisper-light and unsettling the fine hairs along her shoulder blade, bare where her tank top strap had slipped off during the night. Tess moans sleepily into her pillow, clutching it tight before she lifts her head just enough to glance over her shoulder.

Joel sits perched at the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. “Morning,” he whispers, soft and low. His fingers continue their path over her skin, ghosting down along her spine, tracing the delicate skin there.

Tess shivers, moaning quietly as she wakes, stretching out long limbs and feeling that satisfying pull and softening of muscles. She hums, arching her spine into his touch, turning over with a lazy, sleepy grin on her face. “Morning, big guy,” she greets, voice warm and rasping with sleep.

His hand eventually travels lower, resting over the swell of her hip, and Tess can feel the heat of it even through the covers. The blankets bunch and pull taut around her waist, and as Tess turns over onto her back, Joel’s eyes drop briefly to where the dusky pink of her nipples show through her tank top.

She glances down at his hand, and Joel pulls away quickly, eyes downcast and shy.

“How was the patrol?” she asks.

Joel shrugs, tilting his head side-to-side to work out a kink there. “Same as ever,” he tells her, twiddling his thumbs between his knees. “South wall needs to get patched, though. Saw some cracks startin’ at the bottom — don’t wanna risk it gettin’ any worse when the weather gets crazy.”

She reaches out wordlessly and Joel immediately takes her hand to pull her out of bed. Silent commands and obedience come second nature now between them. Sometimes just a look is enough.

Yawning, Tess palms her face and allows herself to lean into his chest briefly. She doesn’t remember the last time they’d been this close, pressed body-to-body. It must’ve been winter; when body heat and a sputtering fire was all they had to survive the blizzard. When he had been feverish and cold, shivering through the ice and infection.

This Joel is warm, solid. Maybe a little stiff.

“Breakfast?” he murmurs, and Tess hums.

 

\-------

 

The rest of the day is...strange. Discombobulating after so long without any kind of intimate physical contact, and suddenly his hand is on the small of her back again, the heat of his presence lingering behind her. His touches stay etched into her skin like bullet wounds and scars; long after breakfast, as if she can’t help herself now that they’re touching again.

Tess doesn’t think about it for the rest of the day.

When she gets back home later in the evening, she finds Joel and Ellie having some strong words with each other in the kitchen.

“It’s just one night!” Ellie says, quite loudly. “Jesus, Joel, I’m not a fuckin’ kid anymore!”

“If you’re gonna act like a damn kid, then I sure as hell am gonna treat ya like one,” Joel snaps, folding his arms. “I know what you always get up to with that girl o’ yours.” He scowls, and Ellie goes red.

Oh.

“We’re just going up to the power station!” Ellie sputters. “Max isn’t _my girl_ —”

Tess drops her stuff onto the kitchen counter loudly, startling them enough for Joel to step back from Ellie. She stares hard at them both, glancing between the scowling man and the equally glowering girl. “‘s there a problem here?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Yes!” Ellie shouts, the same time Joel grunts, “no.”

She arches a brow.

Joel scowls. “Wouldn’t be a damn problem if you’d just listen.”

“I don’t need to listen to you, I’m not your fuckin’ daughter,” Ellie spits back, and Tess knows that it’s about time she puts her foot down.

“Hey!” she says sharply, glaring at Ellie. She eyes the girl coldly when Ellie whips around to look at her, until Ellie clamps her mouth shut and swallows, looking appropriately cowed. “That was not cool.”

Ellie points an accusing finger at Joel. “He started it! All I asked was if it was cool if me and Max went to the power plant tonight, and he flips his shit.”

“If you didn’t _lie_ , I wouldna had to lose my shit,” Joel says tightly. The hard, shadowed look on Joel’s face is unsettling, but she’s seen it enough times to know how to handle this. He gestures to Ellie brusquely, looking at Tess. “Go ‘head — she always listens to ya better anyway.”

Tess’s brow arches higher, and she looks at Ellie expectantly.

A flush spreads across Ellie’s cheeks, and she huffs defensively. “It wasn’t a _lie_ ,” she mutters heatedly. “I just — didn’t tell you the whole plan.”

Tess props a hand on her hip, pressing her lips together. Her eyes blaze at Ellie in disappointment, until Ellie throws her hands up and makes a disgruntled sound.

“Fine!” she yells. She slaps her hands against her thighs and stares hard at the ceiling. “We were gonna go to a party.”

She mumbles the words so hard that Tess has to lean forward to hear her. “What?”

“A _party_!” Ellie repeats, squinting at Tess. “We were gonna ride up to the power station. Kato and Mika were gonna bring beer and we were gonna just hang out.” She shakes her head incredulously, folding her arms tight across her chest.

Tess blinks. “So why didn’t you just tell Joel?”

Ellie curls her lip at him, giving him a narrow little side-eye. “Because he would’ve just started on how _reckless_ and _irresponsible_ Kato and Mika are —”

“They’re nothin’ but hoodlums,” Joel growls.

“They’re my _friends_!” Ellie says, exasperation colouring her words.

Tess sighs, looking from Joel to Ellie and shifting her weight from heel to heel. It’s always a delicate job to play referee to these yelling matches; Ellie’s hot-headed and quick to temper at this age, and Tess honestly doesn’t blame her all that much. Joel’s taken to being quite the hovering parent, especially after finding out about her and Max.

“Are you plannin’ on getting into trouble?” Tess asks.

Ellie gives her a scandalised look. “Who _plans_ —”

Tess pinches the bridge of her nose, exhaling noisily. “Can I trust you to be safe?” she asks, giving Ellie a meaningful look.

“Of course,” Ellie replies instantly, eyes brightening. She rocks from the balls of her feet and back, swinging her hands at her sides; suddenly Tess remembers the fresh-faced fourteen-year-old she’d met in Boston. “I’m always safe.”

She eyes Ellie dubiously. “Even with Max?” The meaning in her question is clear, and Ellie goes beet red. Joel makes a choking sound from her periphery, and Tess thinks he must be about the same shade.

“We’re not _doing_ anything,” Ellie squeaks.

Tess nods thoughtfully. “Keep it that way. Be safe when you drink, and look out for each other. Make sure one of you stays sober, and _don’t_ handle your gun if you’re drinking.” She fixes a stern look at Ellie, and the teen nods grimly; the one thing Tess never fucks around with is drinking and handling guns.

“We’re trusting you,” Tess says then, and the weight of it sits in the air between the three of them. She looks at Joel, pursing her lips. The man’s face has softened into a wistful frown, taut on the edges with memories of the past.

Ellie glances at Joel, and for all of her defiance and indignation, there is still a plea in her eyes.

Joel stares at her for a long moment, before he heaves another long-suffering sigh and nods begrudgingly. “Don’t make me regret it,” he grumbles.

Ellie beams at them, throwing her arms around Tess with a quick squeeze and a breathless ‘thank you!’ before giving Joel the same treatment. Joel hesitates for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Ellie gently, and giving her a squeeze.

“You’re a menace,” he says, without feeling, and Ellie pokes him in the stomach. She dashes out of the kitchen, and Tess can hear Bear barking excitedly at Ellie’s thumping on the stairs.

“Keep your radio on you the whole time,” Tess calls after her, rounding the corner from the kitchen to yell through the hallway. “And you call out to us when you need anything.”

“Yes, _mom_!” Ellie hollers back, both exasperated and indulgent.

Tess rolls her eyes with a huff, pushing off the doorway of the kitchen and turning back to Joel. “She gets that sass from you, y’know,” she drawls.

“You’re good at that,” Joel murmurs, a strange, flickering look in his eyes.

Tess furrows her brow in confusion. “What? Being a hardass —”

“Bein’ a mom.”

She stills. It’s not a thought she’s considered consciously; not unless it’s to vehemently deny her capabilities as a mother. She’s not the mothering type — she’s bossy and impatient, not at all suited to handle children.

Tess has never seen herself as mom material. Hell, she’s not even _wife_ material.

“I’m being bossy,” she says eventually, shrugging off the comment. “ _That_ ’s what I’m good at.”

Joel shakes his head but doesn’t fight her on it. She’s glad for that.

Ellie leaves some time after dinner. The one stipulation Joel had eventually put forth was that she ate with them. “Just so we know for sure she’s had somethin’ to eat ‘fore she drinks.” Ellie makes no protest on her part. The girl loves food almost as much as she loves her awful puns.

They say their goodbyes to Ellie at the door, watching as the silhouette of Max appears astride a horse at the end of the driveway. Tess waves Ellie off, waving at Max too when the girl lifts her hand in acknowledgement. Joel folds his arms from beside her and harrumphs, and Tess elbows him gently, mouth curving into an amused smirk.

“Don’t be a grouch,” she says, and Joel lets out what must be the hundredth long-suffering sigh of the night before he gives Max a curt nod.

“She shoulda brought another horse,” he grunts, eyeing the way Max reaches down and swings Ellie up behind her. He purses his lips sourly when Ellie leans in to give Max a kiss on the cheek.

Tess eyes him with amusement. She doesn’t think he’ll ever be comfortable with seeing Ellie with anyone — male or female. “She’s just having fun,” she reminds him gently. “We all did at that age.”

“I know. That’s the problem.” His face remains pinched and disapproving even as Ellie and Max begin to disappear around the bend.

Tess shakes her head, stepping back into the house and pulling him after her with a pinch of his shirt. “C’mon, old man,” she says. “Can’t have ya sulking and moping around all night.”

“Ain’t sulkin’ _or_ mopin’,” he mumbles.

Tess rolls her eyes at the way he glances back at the door. “Let’s watch something,” she suggests casually, folding down onto the couch. She leans back into the squashy cushions and tucks her feet under her, thrusting her chin at the TV. “You fixed it for a reason.”

Joel looks at her for a long moment, with an expression Tess isn’t quite willing to interpret. She starts to squirm uncomfortably before he speaks again.

“Grab a blanket,” he tells her, a soft look in his eyes. “Don’t want ya to get cold.”

 

\-------

 

They settle on _The Curious Case of Benjamin Button_ after some deliberation. Tess doesn’t remember much of it, only knows that there had been a time when Brad Pitt was a man whose face she’d thought handsome. A vague wonder passes through her — where were they now? The men and women she used to covet and envy. Pretty faces worth millions of dollars; mouldering away in some dark corner of their Malibu homes.

She pulls the blanket tighter around herself and watches the movie rekindle memories from days past. The couch isn’t entirely spacious, between the two of them. She can feel the weight of Joel’s thighs pressing just barely against the pads of her feet, the radiating heat of his body pressed into the cushions as he sprawls out his arm against the armrest and sits in what Tess calls his “man-spread” position. She prods his thigh with a toe reproachfully.

“You’re hogging the couch.”

“You’re all curled up anyway,” he grunts, but shifts his legs closer together regardless. Tess wiggles her toes in the space now devoid of touch, suddenly cold. They sit without any part of themselves touching, and Tess isn’t quite sure what to feel about that.

The movie goes on, and it’s not so bad a movie that Tess phases out all that much. She’s quite taken with the film, in fact — it puts a strange ache of melancholy in her heart to hear and see parts of New Orleans again. Hearing Queenie and Benjamin speak, she remembers a childhood of the same sorts of folk; much, much older, of course. She wonders what Louisiana is like now.

Cate Blanchett is a beauty of angelic proportions, and it’s almost easy to forget that there was once a time when people that beautiful roamed the earth. _They’re all probably dust now_ , Tess thinks. _Dust and spores_.

By the time they get midway through the movie, Tess’s legs are protesting from being held in such a cramped position for so long. She winces slightly as she tries to straighten them, flexing her feet and loosening tight muscles. The blanket falls from her shoulders, and Tess pushes herself further upright against the armrest, trying to straighten out her legs without obnoxiously invading Joel’s side.

Joel glances at her sidelong, and straightens out his legs, pulling them together. He pats his thighs with an indulgent little curl of his lip. “C’mon,” he says. “You’re gonna be achin’ tomorrow.”

She hesitates, eyes darting from his lap to his face and back again. “Thought you didn’t like cold feet anywhere south of the border,” she says.

“Don’t like it more when you’re hurtin’,” he replies easily, reaching out and grasping her ankle to guide her feet into his lap. “And that’s only when I ain’t got a stitch o’ clothes on to protect myself.”

The heat of his hand is startling, and Tess twitches slightly when he begins to rub calloused palms over the soles of her feet. His hands are so large he can engulf her feet from heel to toe. “My hands’re warm anyway,” he says, giving her foot a squeeze.

“How kind of you, good sir,” Tess oozes, though she’s smiling as she leans her head back against the armrest and sighs with contentment as he begins to massage her feet in earnest. “Lord knows how I ever found such an upstanding gentleman such as yourself.”

She puts a syrupy Louisiana drawl to her words, fluttering her lashes at him as Joel chuffs at her. She yelps when he draws a ticklish line along her instep, and tries to jerk her foot away. He holds on tight, pressing into the sore balls of her feet, applying pressure in just the right amount, in just the right places for Tess to make sounds she isn’t even sure she has control over.

He presses his thumb hard into a particularly sore spot on her instep, and Tess lets out a moan.

She hears his breath hitch, his fingers stilling, and she curses herself for it. They hold completely still, the movie droning on in the background, but all Tess can focus on is the heat of his hand on her foot, the fabric of his sweatpants brushing against her bare legs. The heady, almost pine-like scent of him that has dominated the cramped space of the couch. Joel looks up at her, and Tess almost wants to look away, but instead she looks at him sidelong, low and through her lashes.

“This okay?” he murmurs, rubbing careful circles along her heel, fingers curling up against her ankle.

She exhales shakily, nodding once, and his hand continues a slow, focused path along the jut of her ankle bone. Biting down hard on the inside of her cheek, she fights back soft, keening sounds that build in her throat. He carries on steadily, eyes now boring into her face as he strokes upwards, reaching up along her calf.

“Forgot how good you are with your hands,” she mumbles, tilting her head back with a keen awareness of the angle of her neck and jaw in the light. She knows his eyes are on her, laser gaze burning into her belly, and Tess drops her head back and to the side, almost an invitation of exposed, unmarked pale skin.

His hands work into the muscles in her legs, a steady pressure of warmth building, and Tess leans her head back against the couch with a sigh. The tension in her shoulders and neck eases, and she lets her eyes flutter shut as she melts back onto the couch. She feels his bulk pressing in closer to her, the scrape of well-worn sweatpants brushing against bare skin as his hands glide up along her thighs.

A tingle goes through her, and Tess fights back a shiver as she feels his fingers press into her thighs. She makes no protest, only spreads her legs wider to accommodate his size.

Even with her eyes closed, she can feel him looming over her; the solid presence of him hovering with his hands planted against her thighs still. She dares to open her eyes in slits, peering up at him through her lashes, and feels her breath hitch at the sight before her.

Kneeling between her legs, Joel is poised nearly above her, eyes gleaming in the reflection of the television, the broadness of his shoulders blocking out most of the light from it. His eyes are almost whorls of black, his gaze intense and dark and hungry; raw lust that makes her keenly aware of the wetness building between her legs. She reaches out tentatively, spreads her fingers out over the heated plane of his chest, shuddering when he slides his hands up along the swell of her hips, venturing beneath the fabric of her tank top. He grasps the delicate curve of her waist, delicious friction over sensitive skin.

Tess lets out a trembling breath, opening her eyes fully to stare up at him.

“Okay?” he husks, and Tess feels the words rumbling through her like the growl of a bear.

She runs her hands along the muscles of his arms, feels the taut strength beneath his skin. He’s breathing heavily, nearly growling with each breath, and Tess lets her eyes hood again as she pulls him down to her. She tilts her chin up, parts her lips, and Joel meets her halfway with a deep sound of hunger.

The kiss sends a jolt through her she doesn’t expect; they haven’t done this in _ages_. It’s almost like she’s forgotten what it’s like to kiss him — forgets the electric touch of his lips to hers, dry and thin, but soft. She’s forgotten the way the air galvanises around them when they touch, when he’s hovering over her like this, when she’s consumed by the scent, sight, and touch of him. The taste of him. She opens her mouth with a moan, surrenders into his plundering kisses, his seeking tongue. One of his hand tugs away from her waist, reaching up unsteadily to cup her cheek, and Tess sighs against his mouth.

He surges forward, deepening the kiss, and Tess lets her eyes spark wide briefly at the hard brand of his cock grinding against her. She wraps her arms around his neck and shoulders, tangles her fingers into the hair curling at the nape of his neck, scrapes her nails over the skin there just to hear him growl into her lips.

His other hand is still burrowed beneath her tank top, the material shoved nearly to her breasts, and Joel’s hand cups one in the thick heat of his palm. Tess arches with a gasp, shivering hard when his thumb draws circles over her nipple, mewling when he pinches. She tears her lips away from him, whimpering when he leans forward to chase them, but she pushes at his chest.

She stares up into the abyss of his blown-out eyes, eyes tracing over the slick curve of his hips, the ruddy flush branded over his cheekbones. Her legs cinch up tight around his hips, locking behind his thighs, and Tess keeps her gaze blazing into his as she grinds up against him slowly.

His eyes slam shut and his jaw tightens, and a burst of a snarl keeps behind his teeth as he braces himself against the armrest. His breaths come out harsh and stilted; more animal than human. “Tessa —” he swallows hard, and Tess traces the line of his throat with hungry eyes.

She strokes her fingers over his cheek, relishes the soft bristles of his scruff tickling against her palm as he nuzzles into her touch, turns his head to kiss the inside her palm. With her other hand, she reaches down between them, cupping the length of him through his sweats, stroking in one torturous, slow glide from base to tip. The front of his sweatpants is damp, and Tess feels him bear down against the weight of her palm, a desperate groan building in his chest.

Fumbling a hand down, Joel tugs hers away, pressing them into the armrest instead before he’s got his hand back down between her thighs. Tess sighs and keens when his fingers brush along the vee of her thighs, shivering hard when his broad fingers trace the outline of her folds through the damp seam of her underwear.

She bites down hard on her lip, and then pulls him down to kiss him again, fills her senses with all of him that she can reach. Her hips buck into his hand needily, unabashed with the way her wetness is soaking through the material of her underwear and shorts, and Tess lets her teeth dig into his lip when he spreads her pussy open through the cotton.

Clenching hard, she hisses at him wordlessly, a warning behind the grip of her nails on his skin, but Joel seems intent on taking his time. With two fingers holding her open through her underwear, Joel traces her hole with his thumb, smearing the wetness even more, probing in, and then holding there against the very edge of her entrance. Tess writhes, pressing her hips up desperately for more; for the touch of his bare skin to hers, for his fingers on her clit — anything more.

“Please,” she pants, reaching down one trembling hand to yank her underwear to the side. The heady scent of her arousal is thick in the air now, mingling with the combined musk of Joel and her citrus-sweet sweat. Her walls  _ache_ from the emptiness, clenching and gushing for something to fill her, held spread open for his teasing whims.

She bares her teeth at him when Joel traces his fingers over the slick, pink outer folds of her cunt, pressing the tips of his fingers against her hole, but never pressing in. Instead he rubs over it, spreads her open and then rubs up along her clit, circling it with her wetness and trailing back down to her clenching entrance again. She whines and shoves his hand aside impatiently, but Joel grips her wrist and rumbles at her quietly, kisses her brow and cheek and mouths greedily at pale lines of her neck. He cups her sopping cunt, presses his thumb over her throbbing clit, pads of his fingers massaging against her perineum and teasingly venturing lower. Her breath hitches when his slick fingers press against her asshole, circling the tightly furled muscle briefly before pulling away entirely.

“You fuck,” she gasps, writhing with frustration. Her hands have found their way to her breasts, teasing her nipples into aching peaks, and suddenly Joel is much too far away from her, wearing too many clothes.

He licks his fingers clean, eyes still black and hungry as he stares down at her. Wordlessly, he climbs off the couch, barely giving Tess any time to think before he’s sweeping her up into his arms. He marches out of the living room, the TV abandoned and glowing, blankets strewn on the ground, but Tess can’t think of anything else once her arms are around his shoulders.

He carries her upstairs, marches down the hall with nothing short of sheer determination in each step, and Tess strokes her hands over the flexing muscle of his back and arms as he shoulders the bedroom door open. She nuzzles her face into the side of his neck, sucking and nipping, and she smothers a grin at the way his jaw twitches.

Laying her down gently, Joel kneels on the bed beside her, watching wordless and heaving at the way she spreads out over the covers, the halo of red and rich mahogany her hair makes on the pillows. His hands hover over her skin, a question and a plea, and Tess nods her head once. She allows him to undress her, peeling off her shorts and underwear with a touch that can only be described as reverent, and yet so possessive. He touches her like he knows he owns her; like he knows  _she_ owns him, and with each scrap of clothing he strips from her body, the hunger builds and bubbles over.

Naked and gleaming with a sweat of anticipation, Tess lets her eyes hood as she lies back against the pillows, spreading her thighs and reaching out to crook her finger at him. He does away with his own clothes with vicious tugs and impatient shoving, but Tess only purrs with approval when he lays himself down over her. The familiar weight and scratch of the generous hair growing on his chest and stomach make her shiver.

His lips seek out hers once more, and she sighs into the kiss, tracing her fingers over every inch of him that she can reach, and he does the same.

Memorising each other, she thinks dazedly. They’re memorising each other. Familiarising themselves with the taste and touch and feel and their bodies moulded together again. A frightening clarity pulls Tess out of lust briefly — they’re not drunk, not bloodless and functioning on adrenaline and drugs anymore. They’re awake, aware, and painfully sober.

There’s no more hiding behind simple needs and proximity.

Fingertips toughened and calloused from years of work and brutality trace over her skin as delicately as he would a babe; tracing over her thighs, her hips, her breasts. Stroking and cupping and outlining every curve, dip, and arch of her body like an artist admiring a work of art. His fingers ghost over her jaw, her cheek, the high ridge of her cheekbones, the thin arches of her brow, until she takes his hands in hers.

She turns his palm inwards and kisses it, eyes filled with a whirl of emotions that she sees reflecting back at her in his own hazel eyes. They bleed into each other, as they always do, but Tess doesn’t want to think. Not right now.

The hard line of his cock is pressed between them against her belly, twitching and leaking as his hips grind on their own volition. She’s so wet he can slick himself against her without resistance, the lewd sound of skin sliding on skin building between them when he nestles his cock between her folds. Each swipe of the blunt head of his cock against her entrance builds the frustration in her belly, the wanton deep of just being _filled_ ; the way she hasn’t been touched in those long months.

Joel bends his head and kisses a path along her shoulders and chest, sucking and nipping over skin that blooms red in his wake as he reaches down with one hand. He parts her folds, slicking his fingers in the pooling wetness there before easing a finger inside her. It’s not enough of a stretch to hurt, but the heat of his finger inside her makes Tess shudder, pressing her hips up against it for more.

Another finger follows the first, and Tess turns her head into the pillows to smother the needy moan that bursts in her throat at it. His fingers stroke and thrust inside her, crooking in deep against that place that makes her walls flutter and clench. The tingle builds in her belly the more he moves, and Tess groans when he scissors his fingers wide, and a third one joins them on the next glide in.

His thumb presses against her clit, nuzzling against it like a kiss, but he doesn’t rub or tease. The solid weight of it against the swelling nub is almost painful, and Tess hisses at it.

He nuzzles into her breast, mouthing the swell of her breast before he takes a nipple into his mouth. He growls and rumbles like a purring beast, sucking and nipping over the sensitive skin, and Tess feels more wetness gush on his fingers.

“ _A-ah_ —” she arches up into his fingers, thighs trembling at the way they crook _perfectly_ against the grooves inside her. She bites down on a whimper, and strangely feels a stinging heat pool in the edges of her eyes. A well of emotions grow in her chest, and Tess throws an arm over her eyes in bewilderment, moaning out and grinding up into his fingers.

Joel moans along with her, beard scraping along the rapidly reddening skin of her breast. He rubs the pads of his fingers against that place inside her for another moment longer before pulling out slowly. Tess almost wails with regret. He puts his fingers to his lips, spreading them to show her the slick glistening on them before he licks them clean.

She licks her lips, blushing high over her cheekbones as she looks away.

He reaches down and cups her cheek, and Tess sees the same shyness she feels in his face. It’s been so long since they’ve been this intimate, since they’ve had each other naked. There’s something so painfully intimate this time around, so painfully different than the last time they’d had sex.

Everything suddenly feels so foreign, so new.

He leans down to kiss her, and Tess arches her neck up to meet him halfway. She licks into his mouth tentatively, deepening the kiss until she can only taste herself on his tongue, mingling with the aftertaste of dinner and homebrew that isn’t entirely unpleasant.

Reaching down between them, she gives his cock a teasing squeeze, stroking him from base to tip before angling his cock down between her folds. Their eyes lock, and Joel lays his hand over hers. Slowly, so, so slowly, they guide him into her heat together. Even with how wet she is, her walls are still a vice around him, and Tess drops her head back against the pillows with a broken sob at the stretch. It _hurts_ , but it feels _so good_ ; she forgets how to breathe, hung up on the sensation of her walls spreading, being pried open by the way he’s bearing down deeper and deeper.

She lets out a yelp suddenly, one hand coming up to slam against his chest, and Joel gulps back his shock as he freezes completely above her. His brows furrow worriedly, eyes clear and keen on her face as he reaches to brush her hair out of her face. “Y’okay?” he asks, stroking his thumb over her cheek.

Tess bites down hard on the inside of her cheek, nodding jerkily. She flexes her hips tentatively, breathes deeply and tries to relax enough to take him deeper. She’s forgotten how fucking _big_ he is, how much she wobbled on her legs the days after they fucked piss-drunk and bleary-eyed back in Boston. Sucking in a slow breath, she urges him deeper inside her, bracing her hands against his hips to push and pull at her leisure.

Joel leans down, burrowing his face into her hair briefly, growling deep against her ear before kissing the shell of it, murmuring her name like a prayer. He glides his hands down her sides, squeezing and kneading at the soft weight of her until he can grip her thighs in his hands, hitching them under her knees to pull her open wider. He moves carefully, deliberately as he thrusts in and pulls out in slow, deep movements, slicking his length in her come until the glide against her walls doesn’t catch so violently.

Tess is nearly writhing and sobbing by this point, a deep flush travelling along her body, darkening her nipples and the spray of freckles on her chest. He rocks in, nuzzling his pubic bone against hers and holding there, and Tess lets out a wrecked little sob as her walls clamp down hard over him. Bottomed out so deep inside her, she can feel him in her throat, and feel the shape of his cock shifting inside her when she presses her hands down into the cradle of her hips. Her fingers splay out over her clit, painfully neglected and throbbing, and she circles it frantically when Joel’s pace builds.

“Please,” she whimpers.

Everything else beyond that is a blur.

 _Yes_ , she thinks almost deliriously. _Yes, just like this_. She remembers him just like this. The feel of him inside her, against her, the coarse hair on his chest and nestled between his legs brushing against her skin. Clinging to him, she pants open-mouthed against his neck, takes in the scent of him, the taste of his sweat and musk in her mouth as she sucks vicious little bites against the corded muscles of his skin.

He pushes in deep, pulls out slow and steady before surging back in again, stealing the breath from her lungs. He moves without any sense of urgency, rocking his hips and grinding them at a pace that makes Tess claw at his back desperately, but he kisses her panting mouth to soothe her. “Tessa,” he murmurs, like prayer, like breath, like the word is his first and last as he holds her in his arms.

She keens and sobs, a blaze of emotion cutting deep into her throat like a mouthful of moonshine, and Tess frames his grizzled cheeks in her hands. Her eyes snap open on his, swimming with need, hazy and clear all at once. His hips stutter to a stop, and he stares down into her face searchingly.

Her heart feels close to bursting, pulse racing and pounding in her neck, thrumming in her throat as she stares up into his face. She tries to find the words to put together on her tongue, to make the thoughts reeling through her mind a reality, but all she can do is stroke her palm against his cheek. “Hi,” she whispers finally, and then blushing deep.

Joel lets out a breathy chuckle, and together they dip their heads down shyly. “Hey.” He nudges her nose with his, bumping their cheeks and chins together, nuzzling into her neck and peppering the softest kisses into her skin.

She rakes her nails gently over his scalp, letting her head drop back with a soft sigh. Her fingers curl into the edges of his hair, twining the overgrown edges at his nape as he rocks inside her again, whispering words she can’t quite make out on her skin. Each press of him inside her stirs a long-forgotten warmth, building and building into a crest as Tess gasps and moans, arching off the bed and pulling his lips down to her chest. She swallows back a sob when he takes a nipple into his mouth obediently, whining at the sheer heat of his tongue laving over the straining tip. He sucks harder at the encouragement, rumbling as he thrusts forward in one brutal movement.

All of her comes alive, and Tess lets out a wail as she shudders into her release, swallowing her without warning. She writhes and bucks against his hips, pinned in place by the sheer weight of him as he hushes and soothes her with gentle hands. Her walls clamp down viciously over the hot length of him, her walls rippling in some desperate need to milk him, and Joel chokes out a groan into her hair.

“Tess — ‘m gonna —” he reaches for her hand blindly, twining their fingers together and squeezing hard, pinned against the bed as his thrusts start to falter. “I gotta —”

She pulls her legs up high over his waist, locking them tight around his back and digging her heels into his ass. A trembling cry rips from her throat at the angle, over-sensitive and aching, but she urges him deeper, faster. She hasn’t had him inside her in so long, hasn’t felt the heat of his cock swelling and pulsing inside her like this in too long.

He never finished inside, not if they could help it, but Tess feels a strange tingling pressure inside her, a long-buried need. She cinches her thighs tighter around his waist and pulls him down to breathe into his ear.

“Do it,” she whispers, sliding her hand between their joined bodies and teasing circles around her clit. “Do it. I want —” she dissolves into needy whines and sobs as she shudders into her orgasm again, and Joel’s hips stutter to a stop. He surges into her brutally, grinding into her with such viciousness that she can taste the pain of it behind her teeth.

His breath crushes from his lungs with a shout, nearly sobbing as he collapses down onto his forearms, pinning her chest-to-chest. His cock swells and twitches inside her urgently, and Tess melts into the sensation of wet heat bursting inside her.

Fumbling an arm around her, he squeezes her tight to him, chest heaving with each breath. Every pulse of his seed, his grip tightens, pulling himself in deeper and deeper into her, crushing her to his chest as they pant and groan together. Tess grinds her hips up to him, flexing them open wider and whimpering at the sticky mess she can feel running out around his cock. It runs in thick rivulets down her folds, slicking over her perineum and ass, dripping down between Joel’s trembling thighs.

Eventually she becomes keenly aware of something other than the ringing in her ears; her thighs are aching from the strain of holding herself against him like this, and Tess unwraps them shakily. Joel lowers her down onto the bed gently, and Tess squirms on the wet spot they’d made, seeping into the sheets. She shivers when he slips out of her, feels the cold air brushing against the overheated skin of her folds. Her cunt aches with the emptiness, her hole fucked open and painted white with his release that she clenches on dazedly.

Gathering her in his arms, Joel rolls them out of the wet spot, rubbing soft circles along her shoulder blades. Tess sighs and nestles into his chest, pressing her ear against the steady thrum of his heart. His hands stroke trembling paths along her body, his lips pressed against the crown of her head as he murmurs her name again and again, like ancient prayer. His hands slide down over her thigh, palming the soft skin of her ass, kneading the muscle beneath as he guides one lean thigh over his hips, spooning her chest-to-chest.

Tess hums, a low content sound as she curls her leg around his hips obligingly, taking pleasure in the way  she rubs against his skin. His hands move all over her body, caressing in slow, reverent strokes, and then soothing kneads until she’s sighing, warm and pliant in his arms.

“Missed you,” he croaks, with such a rawness in his words that Tess has to look up into his face. A strange flutter of emotions mar his features; a war of contentment and wistfulness, lingering with deep troubled lines that furrow his brow.

She reaches up to smooth her fingertips over the creases in his forehead. “Missed you too, old man.” She kisses his jaw softly, nuzzles into his hold. “Missed this.”

She feels him swallow, throat bobbing against the side of her head. “We ain’t — I haven’t — we’re always so —” he squeezes her closer to him.

Reality sets it like an icy grip around her lungs. Tess touches his cheek, understanding. Shame blooms in her chest, self-loathing for nothing thinking harder about it in the heat of the moment. They’re usually always so careful about this, especially this. Bringing an innocent life into a world as tumultuous and wild as this — they should know better.

The small flicker of hope inside Tess whispers into the edges of her mind. _But they’ve never had to worry before. It’s just not in the cards for them, if it hasn’t happened by now_.

She clings to Joel tighter.

For how much longer can they tempt fate?

In a voice much smaller than she’d like, Tess murmurs, “hasn’t happened yet. After all this time. Don’t — don’t think I can, at this point.” She doesn’t even know if she _wants_ to. Motherhood has never been a thought of hers, at least — it wasn’t ever anything she sought out. Babies are sweet and soft and need mothers with traits that Tess has none of. She dares to lift her head from his chest, dares to tilt her chin up to peer into his face uncertainly. She’s not sure if the leaden weight in her belly is disappointment or fear.

Joel's brows pull low with confusion, blinking down at her. "What're you talkin' about, sweetheart?" He blinks again, rapidly, until his eyes snap wide with realisation. Tess bites down hard on her lip, bracing for the wall to build back up behind his eyes, but Joel's face softens. He looks almost amused.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, pressing a scruffy kiss to her forehead and tickling her side gently. "That ain't what I was gonna say."

Tess pulls back far enough to look him in the eye, palm pressed flat against his chest, fingers brushing against the spread of hair growing there. She eyes him warily, but Joel just chuckles low under his breath and hauls her onto his chest. He stares up at her silently for a long while, tracing the lines of her face with his eyes and his fingers like an artist cataloguing each section of her; every last freckle and line and curve.

He brushes his fingers over the faded scar on her cheek; a lasting reminder of Boston.

"I love you," he says. "That's what I meant to say."

Tess stares at him. Her nails dig into his chest despite herself, and she looks down into his face in some desperate search of some kind of joke, some kind of dream. She presses her lips together and waits for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn't.

He gives her a sheepish smile. "You don't gotta say it back —"

"Shut up, old man." She kisses him hard, melts into his lips and surrenders herself completely into the overflowing warmth bleeding from between her ribs.

He wraps his arms around her and holds her close, kisses her deep and slow, and Tess feels the burn behind her eyelids that she tries to shut hard and fight back. The first tear drips off the edges of her eyelashes, and Joel blinks his eyes open when it falls against his cheek. He reaches up to thumb the tears from her eyes, but Tess ducks her head, burrowing it deep into his neck.

"Love you too, you — dumbass," she warbles, and Joel says nothing. Doesn't laugh or tease or say it back, but he holds her close and kisses her hair and murmurs her name again like it's the only thing he knows. He soothes her with sweet nothings and gently crooning, stroking her skin and kissing her hair until the tears stop, and when they do, he kisses her fingertips and the damp lids of her eyes.

She falls asleep in his arms, tangled in the sheets and their legs twined together. With the steady thrum of his heart against her ear, Tess thinks that this is enough.

This is everything.

  



End file.
